


all you have to do is stay a minute

by wafflesofdoom



Series: oh, it's such a cliche darling [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chance Meetings, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: attending his ex-girlfriend's wedding was at the very bottom of robert's list of things he wanted to do with his first weekend off in a month, but it wasn't something he had a choice in, if lawrence had any say in the matter. of course, robert hadn't expected to meet the most gorgeous bartender he'd ever laid eyes on at the so-called wedding of the year.or, alternatively, the one with the wedding, the fish and chips, and the moving on.





	

Coming to the wedding had been a bad idea, Robert decided, sitting at his table, wine glass in hand, pretending to watch the first dance. He’d managed to survive the dinner, surrounded by his work colleagues, but now all of them were in the swing of things, standing at the edge of the dancefloor, cheering the bride and groom on.

He was only here because Lawrence had told him to be there. The whole company had been invited to his darling daughter’s wedding, Chrissie White finally marrying the man of her dreams, an LSE graduate who worked at a massive investment company in Manchester, from a wealthy family with acres of land in the Lake District.

 _Everything_ Lawrence ever wanted for her.

Everything Robert had **never** been, a lad from rural Yorkshire who only managed to get his a-level’s before he was kicked out of home, left to fend for himself, working three jobs at a time until he schmoozed his way into Lawrence White’s agricultural machinery company.

He wasn't still in love with her, he really wasn’t. Robert had moved on from Chrissie years ago, and it’s not as though he was jealous of her, of her new husband and his ridiculous haircut.

Robert just didn't want to see someone else he had once been in a relationship with settle down and be happy, when he was alone, yet again.

Sighing, Robert knocked back the last of his wine, pushing back his seat. At least the bar was quiet, everyone else too focused on the first dance and the soppy song the band was crooning out over the sound system to replenish their drinks.

“Double whiskey, please.”

The barman raised an eyebrow, but reached for a glass, pouring Robert a generous measure of whiskey. He was gorgeous, Robert noted, all dark curls and scruffy facial hair, his uniform black waistcoat and red bowtie making him smoulder under the soft lights of the ballroom.

Talk about being tall, dark and handsome.

Robert settled himself on one of the barstools, his focus on the bartender. ~~~~

“You’re missing the first dance,” he commented, wiping down the bar, even though it was already pristine.

Impression was everything, Robert supposed, when Lawrence was paying as much as he was for the wedding. Wedding of the year, they’d all taken to calling it. Chrissie White and Daniel Hartley, a match made in heaven - all money and power and dazzlingly fake smiles.

It was all too much of a fuss, if you asked him.

Robert had thought about getting married, once. Only the once though, now he was thinking about it.

It had been Katie.

Of _course_ it had been Katie, it always came back to Katie, didn’t it? Robert used to think about standing up in the little village church in Emmerdale, and saying ‘I do’ in front of all the people who never believed he was good enough, and marrying the best looking girl in the village.

He hadn’t imagined a big wedding. Something small, tasteful - in the summer time, that gorgeous few weeks between July and September when Katie’s hair would glow in the late evening sun, making her look as though she’d stepped out of the pages of one of Victoria’s magazines.

Still, that all blown up spectacularly, and here he was, watching his ex-girlfriend get married to the apparent love of her life, her dress rumoured to have cost upwards of ten thousand, if the gossip in the office was anything to go by.

(It probably was, to be fair - Rosie and Louise had an ear in everything, and they knew it all. They’d been the first to figure out about Robert and Connor sleeping together, though thank god, they hadn’t out two and two together and realised it had been going on a lot longer than after he and Chrissie broke up.)

“I think I’ll survive,” Robert said, draining his glass of whiskey. “Another, please.”

“You not a fan of weddings then?” he asked, pouring Robert another glass. Top shelf stuff, Robert noted - Lawrence was sparing no expense when it came to the free bar, and he might as well take advantage of it.

Robert gave a noncommittal shrug, taking a gulp of the amber liquid, the alcohol easing the anxious knot in his stomach. “I don’t mind them, but my ex is getting married, so I’ve been to better ones.”

“Bit weird, innit? Going to your exes wedding, I mean.” he commented, leaning against the bar now, clearly taking advantage of the quiet, the lull in the near constant stream of people coming to drink the free bar dry.

“I work for her father.” Robert wasn’t sure why he was telling the bartender this, but he was bored, and he was good-looking, so it was a better use of his time than moping at a table on his own, listening to Rosie trying to set him up with anything that moved, know she knew he was bisexual.

The bartender winced. “Got yourself neck deep in it then, eh?”

Robert nodded. “It’s been an interesting few years,” he laughed. “It didn't exactly go down well with her when I started sleeping with the companies receptionist when we broke up, either.”

“Let me guess, some tall, leggy bird that put her to shame?”

  
“More like a medium height bloke with a terrible sense of humour.” Robert said, enjoying the smirk on the bartender’s face as he admitted his bisexuality. He knew that look, he’d gotten that same look from so many other lads when they put two and two together and realised they had a chance.

The bartender laughed, a bright, happy sound that brightened up Robert’s generally terrible evening. “I’d say she loved that,” he snorted, filling Robert’s glass again without so much of a question.

“Oh, I got all sorts from her for weeks.” Robert laughed. “Apparently, not telling her I was bisexual in the eight months we were together was the crime of the century.”

“Worked out for her in the end though, didn’t it?” he commented, jerking his head toward the dancefloor, and the still ongoing dancing. It must be the longest first dance song in the world, Robert thought to himself for a second, before turning back to the bartender.

“Everything always comes up Chrissie White.” Robert quipped.

“But not for you?”

“I’ll let you know.” Robert winked, enjoying the smile that spread across the bartenders face. “I’m Robert, by the way.”

“Aaron,” he introduced, moving to serve another wedding guest before their conversation could continue.

Robert swirled his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around, testing the name on his tongue.

“Aaron.”

He could work with Aaron.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Are you going to prop the bar up all night?”

Robert looked up, smiling slightly as he noticed Aaron. The bar had gotten busy again, and Robert had distracted himself with some awkward small talk with his workmates for a while before he’d returned to his seat at the bar, watching as the staff, all dressed in the same neat uniform as Aaron, were completely rushed off their feet.

A wedding of over three hundred guests was no mean feat.

“I was hoping for this good-looking bartender to have a free second to talk to me,” Robert grinned, a half drunk pint in hand this time. He’d had another few, but he was slowing down now, not wanting the pleasant buzz of a few drinks to turn into rip-roaring drunk.

His drunk self was notorious for making terrible decisions.

“So you’re telling me that you’re at a wedding with what, three hundred people, and you’re trying it on with me?” Aaron raised an eyebrow, wiping down the worst of the spilled drink on the bar.

“You’re the most interesting person here.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Aaron retorted, carefully washing some of the pint glasses, keeping an eye on the amount of people waiting for drinks at the bar, clearly not wanting it to get too busy.

“Then tell me about yourself.” Robert prodded. “I’ve told you I’m at my ex-girlfriend’s wedding, and I work for White Industries. Tell me something about you!”

Aaron rolled his eyes, but relented. “I work here, don’t I?”

“That’s not interesting,” Robert shook his head, leaning forward so he could talk without having to shout over the sound of the thumping music. “Do you bartend for the fun of it?”

“I bartend to pay the rent.” Aaron corrected, still washing glasses. Robert couldn’t help but admire the way Aaron’s dark curly hair fell over his forehead, slightly damp with sweat from the heat of the ballroom.

It made him all the more attractive.

“So it’s not your greatest dream to be bartender of the year?”

“Mate, I just about tolerate it.” Aaron laughed, pausing in his work. “I’m not exactly the biggest fan of being social at the best of times, but rent in Manchester isn’t cheap. This is job one of two,”

“So whats the other job?”

“Cars.” Aaron said, brightening up slightly. “I’m a mechanic, love cars.”

Robert beamed. “I’m a car man myself.”

“Oh yeah? What do you drive?”

“A Porsche, old school one.” Robert said. “I used to drive an Audi A4, but however nice a car it was, it’s not my Porsche.”

“Not all about the brand names,” Aaron shrugged. “All about how nice a drive it is.”

“Best drive in the world.” Robert admitted, reflecting on the random Sunday afternoons he’d spend driving around the Yorkshire countryside, with nothing more than his thoughts and his car.

He wasn’t good at being alone. Robert had never been good at being alone, he always turned to self destruct mode when he was lonely, but since his breakup with Chrissie, since the disaster that had been him and Connor, well, he was forcing himself to be better at it.

He’d even taken himself to the cinema alone once, recently. Robert didn’t exactly have many friends - he had plenty of colleagues and acquaintances, and even more one night stands, sure - but he didn’t exactly have many friends to go to the cinema with, and he loved movies.

It was hard, being alone, but Robert knew he was all the better for those long Sunday drives with nothing but his radio and the winding roads out of Manchester as his only company.

“Tell me something interesting about you, then.” Aaron nudged, having come back from serving another wedding guest.

“I collect Lego.” Robert said, laughing at his own admission. It was a hobby he’d only recently picked up again, after a self indulgent trip to the Lego store in London (supposedly for his nephew’s birthday present, but he’s blown a few hundred quid on Lego for himself, and gotten addicted all over again.)

Robert liked to sit down after a long day at work, and just mess about building things. His Lego projects had gotten bigger and better over the past few months, and he was building a Star Wars collection to be proud of (if you asked him, at least.)

Aaron looked at him, wide eyed. “You collect Lego?”

“Yup,” Robert confirmed. “I like building things out of Lego, I’ve got a really good model of an x-wing.”

Aaron looked completely confused. “An x-wing?”

“From Star Wars?” Robert said, as if it were obvious. Aaron didn’t show any signs of understanding, and Robert had to laugh. “I’ve just exposed myself as a complete nerd now, haven’t I?”

Aaron laughed, nodding. “You have, mate. I don’t think I’ve touched a piece of Lego since I was _about_ six.”

“It’s fun!” Robert defended, thinking of the hours he’d spent in front of the telly, building models out of Lego. “It’s one of those things where you can just turn your brain off and not have to think, you know? It’s like - like rebuilding an engine, just on a slightly smaller scale.”

Aaron inclined his head slightly, as if he was getting the idea. “It’s nice, innit? To not have to think sometimes.”

There was a sad look in Aaron’s eyes that made Robert’s stomach twist, an indication that there was so much more to Aaron’s words than a simple need to turn his brain off sometimes, after a long working week. “It’s probably why I watch so many movies,” he blurted, not wanting the conversation to stall, trying to move past the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them.

“Oh yeah?”

Robert nodded. “I love the really old black and white movies, you know? Like old gangster films, or those old black and white romances. I think I’ve seen Casablanca about a thousand times.”

“So Lego and old movies are your vice?”

Robert laughed. “Yeah, suppose they are really. I do love a good superhero movie though, go to all the midnight showings of the new Marvel movies.”

Aaron laughed. “That’s more my scene.”

“What do you get up to in your spare time then? When you’re not talking to handsome strangers.” Robert teased, not wanting their conversation to stop, not wanting to let Aaron walk away from him.

“I sell overpriced cocktails to rich twats.” Aaron winked, gesturing toward the forming queue. “I’ve got to work, but stay here if you’d like, it should quieten down when the band gets going again.”

Robert nodded, content to sit back in his stool and watch as Aaron worked. Robert didn’t know half the people at Chrissie’s completely outrageous wedding, didn’t recognise most of the people in the queue for drinks.

Half of them were probably business contacts, knowing Lawrence.

Aaron was captivating, his blue eyes shining brightly under the soft light of the chandeliers, his curls getting softer, sticking to his forehead with sweat as he sped around the bar, making cocktails with a practised ease.

He was happy to just watch him, watch as the almost-stranger worked to clear the worst of the queue, exchanging jokes with his workmates. There was a calmness to Aaron, even amongst the frenzy of the wedding, the dark haired man not rising in the slightest to the drunken demands of the infinite numbers of posh twats that wanted their drinks there and then and didn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting their turn.

Robert was sure he’d have chucked an overpriced cocktail right over one of their ridiculously overpriced suits by now, annoyed by the alcohol flushed faces and demanding tones of what looked like every investment banker in Manchester, even from afar.

He’d thought this was the life he wanted, once. The glamour, the glitz of it all - it was why he’d pursued Chrissie the way he did, lusting after the lifestyle the White family had, the exotic holidays and expensive hobbies.

It was a world away from the life he’d had to scrimp and save to get for himself, his nice flat in Manchester city centre, his vintage car, the tailored suits he’d gone without to have, just to make the right impression on Lawrence and his cronies.

When he’d gotten it all, he’d liked it, sure. Chrissie had whisked him to New York for a long weekend, and South Africa for what she declared was a winter getaway, and for a while, it was good, it was fun, and he thought he could fall in love with her - but something had been missing.

Or maybe he’d just been hiding too much of himself, hiding the person Robert really was underneath the tailored suits and expensive aftershave. Regardless of how far he’d ran, he’d always be the farm boy from Emmerdale who was too scared to say he was bisexual.

He was almost glad, he’d had the affair with Connor. It had been fun, and when he and Chrissie had broken up, he’d given the whole dating a man thing a go. He’d been terrified, the first few weeks, but in the end, he’d been okay with it.

Connor hadn’t worked out, but Robert had worked out a lot because of him.

Enough to be able to sit at a bar, and flirt with a man, and not resort to bathroom hookups and overly elaborate ways of hiding his sexuality.

“Here,” Aaron set a drink down in front of him, a brightly coloured cocktail. “Apparently this raspberry mojito had too much raspberry in it, so knock yourself out.”

“Was that a genuine compliant?” Robert raised an eyebrow, taking a sip. He didn’t mind cocktails, quite liked them actually - and from a single sip, he could tell Aaron knew how to make a good one.

“Mate, you wouldn’t believe the shit people say to you here. It’s like - because they’re rich, they’re entitled to the bloody world. Us mere mortals don’t always meet their standards for perfection,” Aaron rolled his eyes.

“You on for the night?”

Aaron shook his head. “I set up, I get to knock off at one am and escape the worst of it. Why, you got somewhere you need to be?”

Robert shook his head. “No, I’m good here, actually.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Robert! Have you seriously been hiding out here all night?” Rosie slurred, slinging an arm around Robert’s shoulders. She was absolutely hammered, her once stylish up-do falling flat around her shoulders.

“I’m close to the drink here, right?” Robert joked, gesturing to his half drunk mojito.

“Are you going to talk to Connor tonight?” Rosie asked, glancing over to where Connor was standing, talking to one of their other work colleagues, wearing that stupid blue suit Robert hated on him, the colour washing the already pale man out.

“Why would I do that?” Robert raised an eyebrow, wondering why Rosie was bringing Connor up now. It had been well over a year since their relationship has crashed and burned, and to him at least, it was all in the past.

“Because, you two were good together.”

“We were terrible together.” Robert corrected, still feeling completely confused. “Are you trying to set us up because we’re the only two single people left in sales?”

Rosie feigned innocence. “I just think it would be worth you two giving it another go, darling. Isn’t it worth another try?”

“Rosie, you saw how badly things ended between us.” Robert shook his head, almost ready to laugh as he thought about the disaster that had been his and Connor’s relationship. They'd only managed to make it four months in an actual relationship before they close to killed each other.

“But if you love each other, you should try and make it work!” Rosie said. “It’s a wedding, Robert, it’s the perfect time to give something a second chance. Isn’t love worth it?”

“You’re drunk.”

“He still loves you,” Rosie said, giving him a determined look. “Just, think about it!”

“I don’t need to.” Robert shook his head. “Go, annoy someone else.”

Rosie pressed a lipstick stained kiss to his cheek, snagging his mojito before she tottered away, immediately caught up in conversation with someone else.

“What was that about?”

Robert looked up to see Aaron looking at him, genuinely curious. “She’s trying to convince me to get back with my ex-boyfriend,” he explained, jerking his head toward Connor, who was practically looking right at him.

“He’s good looking.”

“He’s something.”

“You sound like you’ve still got feelings for him.” Aaron commented, pausing to put a half empty bottle of whiskey back on the shelf.

“You ever have one of those exes where going there again would be like walking willingly into a house fire and hoping you don’t get burned, even though its completely obvious that you will?”

Aaron laughed. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“Well, that’s Connor.” Robert said, pulling at his tie. It was getting late now, and it was way too warm in the overly busy ballroom. He hadn’t quite gotten to the stage where he was willing to discard his suit jacket, but he could full a red flush rising in his face that loosening his tie eased slightly. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Maybe I don't want to talk at all,” Robert smirked, enjoying the way a blush rose in Aaron’s cheeks, the bartender shaking his head good-naturedly.

“I’m working.”

“Not for much longer though, right?” Robert looked at his watch, noticing it was closer to one am than he’d realised, the right hand on his watch ticking over to quarter to. He wanted Aaron all to himself, after an evening of broken conversation between cocktail making.

Aaron looked at his own watch, giving a slight shrug. “I’ll see if I can knock off, it’s quiet enough now. Meet me out front in five minutes, yeah?”

Robert nodded, draining the last of his pint. He straightened his tie, making to say his goodbyes to Chrissie. “Congratulations, Chris. It was a really beautiful day,” he said, putting a hand on her elbow.

Chrissie gave him one of her dazzling smiles. Whatever she’d found with Daniel the investment banker, well - it suited her. “Thank you for coming, Robert.”

“Enjoy the honeymoon.” Robert pressed a kiss to her cheek, giving Lawrence a nod before he made to leave, the exit of the ballroom a few blissful metres away when Connor caught sight of him, giving him a bright smile.

He’d loved that once, he had. Connor had been the first person in a really long time to make him feel like he could be himself, completely and utterly so, and he’d loved him for it.

Just, not for much else.

“Hiya,” Robert greeted, accepting the hug Connor offered. “Enjoying the wedding?”

Connor nodded. “I assume you’ve gotten the same speech from Rosie as I have?” he asked, a goodnatured smile on his face. His hair was longer than it had been last time Robert had taken any notice, floppy against his forehead.

“I have.” Robert didn’t really know what to say.

“I’m definitely not in with another chance here, am I?” Connor said, giving Robert a knowing look. In the year or so since they’d broken up, they’d fallen back together a few times, at the end of drunken nights out.

But tonight wasn’t going to be one of those times.

“We used up all our chances, Connor.” Robert shook his head, glancing toward the doorway. He didn't want Aaron to think he wasn't coming, that he was standing him up so he could stay at the wedding.

“Go, he’s cute.” Connor winked, not looking overly disappointed. Robert could appreciate that about him, how Connor knew he had no real claim over him, not really, not anymore.

“I’ll see you Monday.” Robert said, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, heading for the exit. Chrissie had always been obsessed with the idea of a Christmas wedding, and it made for a shock to the system when he left the hotel, the cold December air hitting him like a tonne of bricks.

If he hadn't been half sober already, the cold would have sobered him up completely.

Robert couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as he noticed Aaron, the bartender wearing a black jacket over his uniform, zipped up to his chin, leaning against the wall outside the hotel. He already looked happier, more relaxed, now he wasn’t stuck behind a bar. “You managed to get off early then?”

Aaron nodded, a smile on his face as he stood up properly, rocking on his heels slightly ass he spoke. “What’s the plan then?”

“I don’t know.” Robert admitted, laughing slightly at his own nervousness. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve done this.”

“Done what?”

“I don’t know. Wanted to take someone on a date,” Robert couldn’t get over how **utterly** stupid he sounded. He’d known Aaron about six hours, and here he was, talking about taking him on a _date._

It was one in the morning, and he'd been working all day - **as if** Aaron wanted to go on a date.

“I could go for some chips.” Aaron stood up, nudging Robert with his shoulder. “There’s a decent chippy around the corner. If you’re buying, I might stick around for a bit.”

“Battered sausage do ya?”

“Buy me a battered sausage, and I’ll batter you.” Aaron snarked, a bright smile on his face, making the tone of his voice sound less threatening. “You survived your exes wedding then?”

Robert shrugged. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” he admitted. “I got to talk to you all night, didn’t I?”

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I think you are.” Robert said sincerely, following Aaron into the tiny chip shop. He let Aaron order what he wanted, adding another portion of chips and a can of coke to their order.

Robert handed over the cash, waving away Aaron’s attempts to pay for his own. It was only a bag of chips, he could afford to splash out a bit. “I’m keeping you from going home, least I can do is buy you chips.”

Aaron smiled, sliding into one of the blue plastic seats, cracking open his coke. “I probably wouldn’t sleep even if I did go home,” he admitted, taking a drag of his fizzy drink. “I’m always too awake after a wedding shift, my head’ll be banging for hours yet.”

“You work a lot of weddings then?”

Aaron nodded. “I never knew how many rich people wanted to waste their money on fancy weddings until I started working at the hotel.”

“You not a fan of weddings?” Robert asked, genuinely curious.

Aaron shrugged. “I think summat like that should be private, you know? Why’ve you got to prove to the world you’re in love with someone by getting yourself twenty grand in debt? I’ve got enough bills to pay, thanks.”

“I used to think I wanted a life like that,” Robert admitted, watching the condensation run down the side of his coke can. “All the money and the expensive parties. I had it for a while, with Chrissie.”

“What changed your mind?”

“It didn’t make me happy.” Robert said simply, proud he could admit that now. “I thought it would, but I was still hiding all the biggest parts of me.”

Aaron looked confused.

“I’ve only been out for a year or so.” Robert explained.

Eighteen months, actually. Eighteen months since he’d come out, in a quite whisper to Rosie over lunch, admitting that he and Connor were seeing each other. Twelve months since he’d managed to drive himself home to Emmerdale, and sit down with Diane, and Victoria, and Andy, and admit to his family that he was bisexual, and that yes, he did have a boyfriend, and no you’re not meeting him.

Ten months since he sat in Chrissie’s office at the company and listened to her rant about how much of a liar he’d been, how she didn’t believe he’d ever loved her, because how could he, he was _gay?_

Ten months since he’d contemplated quitting his job and starting over, going back into the closet in a place where nobody knew his history, where no-one would know that he was in a rocky relationship with receptionist in the sales department, the one with the sneaky smile and the terrible hair.

Eight months since he’d decided he’d be proud of it.

“S’not easy, is it?” Aaron said, a hint of understanding in his expression.

“I’m better for it though.”

Aaron smiled, clinking his coke can against Robert’s. “I’ll cheers to that,” he said, standing up as the cashier called out that their order was ready, going to collect the paper bag of fish and chips from her.

Robert didn’t realise quite how hungry he was until Aaron set the food down in front of him, immediately tucking into his fish and chips meal. Robert took a second to unwrap the paper, diving straight in with his hands.

He and Chrissie had gone to the seaside once, and they’d had a nice meal along the promenade, in a fancy seafood restaurant. Robert had been craving the over salty familiarity of a chip van, and while Manchester wasn’t exactly the seaside, it good.

The chips were good.

“Favourite movie then?” Robert nudged, wanting their conversation to continue.

“Die Hard.” Aaron said decisively, before furrowing his brow. “Or Fast and Furious.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you snob. I like cars, and I like explosions, whats not to love?” Aaron rolled his eyes, chewing a mouthful of food. “Go on then, whats yours? Aside from Casablanca.”

“Around the World in Eighty Days.” Robert said, thinking about the massive collection of DVDs that were scattered across his living room. “Or the original Star Wars trilogy. You can’t go wrong with a bit of Han Solo, can you?”  
  
“Which one is that again?”

“Harrison Ford?” Robert said, shaking his head when Aaron looked at him blankly. “Come on, everyone has a crush on Harrison Ford, he was gorgeous in Star Wars.”

Aaron snorted. “Mate, just how old are you?”

Robert flicked a salt packet at Aaron, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that old, cheeky git. You just have no appreciation for the finer things in life,” he teased.

“What, Harrison Ford and Lego?”

“Exactly.” Robert laughed, enjoying the way Aaron’s face had lit up once more, the bartender clearly enjoying himself. “That, and agricultural machinery. I love tractors, me.”

“Ugh, really?”

Robert snorted. “I hate it, I hate farming,” he admitted. “I grew up on one, and I hated it. I just never went to uni, and farms were the only thing I knew much about, so I ended up selling tractors for a living.”

“What would you do then, if you could have any job?” Aaron asked, genuinely curious.

“I’d be my own boss.” Robert said decisively. “I like running things, being the one to call the shots. I get a taste of it, heading up the sales department, but I’ve still got to answer to Lawrence. I’d like to be able to set up my own business, build something to be really proud of.”

“What kind of business though?"

“If I knew that,” Robert popped another chip in his mouth, enjoying the half cold potato for a second before he responded. “I wouldn’t have to work for my ex-girlfriend or go to her wedding on my first Saturday off in a month, would I?”

Aaron made a noise of agreement. “Not exactly where I’d like to be spending my Saturday either, if I’m honest. I hate working weddings,” he polished off the last of his chips, downing his can of coke. “Too many posh twats."

“At least you met me at this one, eh?” Robert teased.

“Who says you're not a posh twat?” Aaron joked. Robert was surprised by how gorgeous Aaron looked, even now, under the harsh yellow lighting of the chip shop, but the industrial lighting did nothing to take away from how absolutely drop dead gorgeous Aaron was, all curly dark hair and teasing eyes.

God, Robert wanted him. He wanted to launch himself across the tiny plastic table they were sitting at, and snog him senseless, and get to know every single inch of his body there and then.

He must have been staring, Robert realised, as Aaron fixed him with a curious look. “Sorry,” he said, his voice low. “You’re distracting me.”

“How so?”

“You’re gorgeous, and I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.” Robert admitted, a flirty tone to his voice. “I’ve been thinking that all night, actually.”

Aaron ducked his head, a light blush rising in his cheeks again.

“Too much?” Robert winced, wondering if he’d pushed a bit too far.

“No, I - when I saw you at the bar earlier, I assumed you’d have some rich bird on your arm,” Aaron admitted, looking at him properly again. “I didn’t exactly think I’d have a chance of going home with ya.”

Robert couldn’t ignore the excitement he felt at Aaron’s words. “You want that?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, apparently frustrated by his ignorance. “Why do you think I’m still here, Robert?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert didn’t know why he was so nervous. He was nearly thirty years old, for crying out loud, it wasn’t as though he was a blushing virgin, but for some reason, his hands were nearly shaking as he slotted his key in the door of his apartment, shoving at the door.

“The amount I pay to live here, you’d think the door would work,” Robert grumbled, tossing his keys into the bowl in the hall table, switching on the spotlights. It flooded his flat with soft light, and he swallowed thickly as he turned around to see Aaron standing in his hallway, running a hand through his curly hair.

Aaron had his hands stuffed in his pockets, clearly waiting for Robert to do something. “I can go home, if you’re just going to stare at me all night,” he said, sounding harsher than he had earlier, suggesting they'd go back to Robert’s.

Robert shook his head, closing the small space between them, close enough to hear Aaron’s heavy breathing, smell the lingering scent of alcohol on his uniform. There was a strange atmosphere of anticipation between them as they stood, neither of them making a move.

Robert waited a second longer before he moved, pressing his lips to Aaron’s in a soft kiss.

It was nice.

It felt _good_.

Robert panted against Aaron’s lips, the bartender taking the opportunity to deepen their kiss, his hands sliding up Robert’s shoulders, and into his hair. Sticking his hands underneath Aaron’s jacket, Robert rested his hands on his hips, backing Aaron against the front door.

They kissed until Robert’s lips felt numb, red and sore from their breathless, desperate embrace.

Aaron broke the kiss first, leaning his forehead against Robert’s as he attempted to catch his breath. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that all night,” he said, still tugging at the short hairs at the back of Robert’s neck.

“Are you telling me I didn’t make a move soon enough?”

Aaron grinned wickedly. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“You’re such a cheeky sod,” Robert said, capturing Aaron’s lips in a harsh kiss, his hands moving to pull Aaron’s shirt from his trousers, fumbling with the buttons as he kissed the smirk right off Aaron’s face.

Robert couldn't help but feel a little bit satisfied at the punch dunk expression on Aaron’s face as he pulled away, shoving Aaron’s jacket and waistcoat to the floor in one swift motion.

He didn’t say a word as he worked open Aaron’s bowtie, throwing it over his shoulder carelessly, his focus on the buttons of Aaron’s sweat damp white shirt. Robert mouthed at his collarbone, enjoying the whimper that escaped Aaron’s lips as he grazed his teeth against the skin there, Aaron’s chest warm, and firm under his mouth, under his hands.

He kept going, adding Aaron’s shirt to the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor of his hallway. Robert didn’t want to comment on the mess of scars Aaron had on his stomach, the silvery lines that made his stomach twist with worry, but he couldn’t help but notice them, trace a finger over a particularly deep one on Aaron’s abdomen.

He looked up, noticing an uncomfortable expression on Aaron’s face. Not wanting to make him feel any more uncomfortable, Robert pressed a kiss to Aaron’s stomach, dropping to his knees.

He was good at this.

“I’m going to make you forget your own name tonight,” Robert promised, deftly unbuckling Aaron’s belt, yanking at his trousers.

Aaron let his head fall back against the front door as Robert started to mouth at the cotton of his boxers, a tiny whimper escaping his lips. “You’re all talk,” he panted, clearly trying not to let on Robert was affecting him.

Robert smirked, finally managing to pull Aaron’s black trousers to his ankles, leaving the other man mostly undressed in the entryway of his apartment.

_Challenge accepted._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert couldn’t help the grin on his face as he walked into work on Monday morning, his work bag slung across his chest. “Good morning Rosie, how are you?” he greeted brightly, taking a swig of his coffee as he passed her desk, nabbing a folder he needed for a meeting later that afternoon.

“You took my advice then?” Rosie asked, looking completely satisfied with herself.

“What?”

Rosie smacked his arm gently. “About Connor, you idiot. He left the wedding just after you did,” she gestured over her shoulder to the reception desk where Connor was sitting, on the phone.

Robert raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know who he went home with, but it wasn’t me.”

Rosie looked disappointed for a second, and then curiosity took over. “You’ve got a face of a man who got serious lucky this weekend, Sugden. Go on, what happened?”

Robert thought about Aaron, the _gorgeous_ man he’d spent most of his weekend in bed with, the man who’d made him a bacon sandwich this morning before they’d both left for work, saying goodbye with a kiss that left Robert wanting so, so much more, and he grinned.

“Rosie,” Robert beamed, unable to hide his happiness from his friend as his thoughts drifted to Aaron, to their plans to meet up and have dinner when they’d both finished work that evening, to the sultry voice that had whispered in his ear about just how hard he was going to rock Robert’s world that night when he’d gotten out of Robert’s car at his own flat, leaving Robert’s stomach doing backflips while every drop of blood in his body went rushing south.

He grinned at his friend, looking to the future for what felt like the first time in a long time, Aaron’s name at the top of his contacts list. “I’ve moved on.”

 

 

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a very short oneshot, but i ended up building a little bit of an alternate universe in this fic i couldn't stop writing, so i hope you enjoyed it. i'm a sucker for a trope-y meeting at a wedding fic, so this is just a bit of fun in the middle of an angsty time for our fandom.
> 
> i'm robertsuggles over on tumblr if you fancy a chat.


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